Dragon-Verse - The Doctor and the Director
by milady dragon
Summary: Nick Fury is visiting the grave of a not-so-dead friend when he gets confronted by a certain Time Lord... Sequel to "Shadows of the Past"


The Doctor and the Director  


Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not Mine, darn it.

Author's Note: This is something I never thought would happen: a Dragon-Verse story without any actual dragon or Torchwood in it. It's a bridge of sorts between the last story ("Shadows of the Past") and the next ("Masks") and was born of an idea that I had of the Doctor having a little talk with Nick Fury about the TAHITI Project.

* * *

 ** _10 July 2014_**

 ** _Evergreen Cemetery_**

 ** _Manitowoc, Wisconsin_**

The grave had been freshly filled in, the grass sparse across the overturned earth.

For the second time.

It wasn't something Nick Fury had expected…for Melinda May to dig the damned thing up. It was why he'd hidden the TAHITI Project information inside that empty coffin, along with all the little gifts that Coulson's family had insisted on including, but then he'd apparently underestimated her loyalty to Phil Coulson and her need to help him find the answers he'd needed.

It worried him, Coulson finding out the truth. Fury knew what everyone else had gone through, when they'd known about the TAHITI treatment, which was why he'd basically had his friend tortured in order to have those particular memories removed. He still had nightmares of Coulson begging him to let him die, and him having to stand there and deny him that dignity, but he didn't have any regrets.

Coulson had looked just fine the last time Fury had seen him, on the Bus when he'd made Coulson Director and had tasked him to rebuild SHIELD the right way. May would watch after him, and Fury would go and just fuck off to wherever he wanted.

It was a bit liberating, to be honest.

Not that he'd give up his carefully maintained contacts. Oh no, he'd never leave the game quite that far. Plus, there were things he wanted to talk to Coulson about, like rebuilding the Helicarrier and the Avengers now that SHIELD was mostly gone and not able to offer the support they had before.

The problem with that, though, was that he'd seen a copy of the Queen of England's meeting with the UN Security Council, where she'd practically declared Rogers and Romanoff as traitors to the British Empire over the files that got dumped onto the internet. They'd leaked Torchwood secrets as well, perhaps inadvertently, and that was an automatic charge of treason. Well, he'd tried to talk them out of it in the first place, and that hadn't gotten him anywhere.

The thing was, Fury could see the sense of outing HYDRA within SHIELD. But it had put a lot of innocent people at risk, and now Great Britain was picking up the pieces as the US wanted to tar SHIELD and HYDRA with the same terrorist brush. Chances were they'd be getting a hell of a lot of those loose SHIELD agents that had got left out in the cold, and he wasn't happy with that at all. Then there were the innocent families and those SHIELD had helped over the years, being persecuted simply because of circumstances beyond their control.

There wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Now that he wasn't in charge anymore, of course. It would be up to Coulson to salvage what he could. And, if Fury was a betting man, he would have put money on Coulson approaching Torchwood and renewing SHIELD's ties with them, despite the hard feelings that were bound to be floating around over the whole internet info dump thing.

It didn't hurt that the man's own nephew was in charge of the London branch, and that Barton was there as well. Fury had known that Coulson was missing them, had actually missed the birth of his grand-niece, and the one thing he'd regretted about giving Coulson the orders to stay dead was that his family had mourned him.

Well, to be honest, Fury had, too. Before the TAHITI shit went down, of course.

He wondered how they'd all react to Coulson suddenly showing up, and a part of him wished he could be a fly on the wall for it. Although he doubted, once all the recriminations had been made, that Fury'd survive the experience if he was anywhere in the area of the fallout. Coulson would probably come out of it with a shit ton of allies, too…including the Avengers, since there was no way in hell Coulson's appearance would stay a secret from them once Barton found out, because what Barton knew, Romanoff knew. He might have moved on from SHIELD, but that didn't mean the pair of them still weren't thick as thieves. And Fury was willing to bet that Romanoff could sneak into the UK easily enough despite the capture on sight order against her.

And don't get him started with Stark. He'd been sniffing around Torchwood ever since the Daleks invaded, and in fact had become fast friends with Toshiko Sato-Swanson. Keeping Stark out of Torchwood business had been like stopping the Mississippi River with his bare hands.

Fury sighed. He stared at the monument over the empty grave, wondering if it would stay in place once SHIELD went wide once again. After all, the Director wouldn't be able to stay dead after that happened, and it would be sooner rather than later. SHIELD needed to be up and running as a deterrent against HYDRA.

It had been Fury's way really of giving Coulson his life back, even if he'd dumped a fucking lifetime's worth of work on him. Coulson would do it right; he was SHIELD, through and through, and was just about the only person Fury could trust with everything.

Well, _almost_ everything. He did still have certain secrets he'd keep to the grave.

Someone clearing their throat had Fury spinning on his heel, reaching for the gun he'd left back in his car.

 _Fuck_. He must really be getting old.

The man who'd managed to sneak up on him was youngish-looking, but Fury had long ago worked it out that you could never tell a person's age by their appearance. That had been really been thrust home – no innuendo intended – when he'd discovered Jack Harkness' secret. Add into that an immortal dragon that just happened to look like a twenty-something businessman and Fury had given up _that_ particular skill years ago.

Besides, the moment he met this man's eyes he knew exactly who he was dealing with. And felt he could be forgiven for letting a Time Lord get the drop on him.

If Fury knew his files – and he did – then this was the Eleventh version of the Doctor; the one that Canton Delaware had kicked alien ass with. He was a tall, gangly man who looked like he'd break his arm if he swatted a fly, which was completely misleading. This was the alien who'd gained the nickname the Oncoming Storm, and Fury knew it was very well deserved from the stories he'd been told and read, especially those files dating back to the very early days of SHIELD and written by Agents Rory Williams and Amy Pond.

"Doctor," he greeted him gruffly. "It's nice to finally meet you."

He didn't even look surprised that Fury knew who he was, which was understandable. After all, he'd once run one of the premier intelligence gathering organisations on the planet and that had have earned him some sort of cred. "Director Fury," the Time Lord returned, his voice undeniably British. Fury figured that accent was because the Doctor did most of his work in Great Britain, and it was always a good thing to try to blend in with the natives. Which Fury now had to do, hence what he was calling his 'living under a bridge' outfit. After all, black leather was hardly conducive to skulking. "Or should it be Colonel Fury now?"

"Doesn't matter," Fury waved it away. "I'm sure I'll come up with a new identity at some point." Especially since he was as officially dead as the man whose grave he'd been visiting. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you, actually." His tone was mild, but Fury got the impression he was about to be in for a lecture of some sort.

"Oh? About what?"

"Phillip Coulson, actually."

Phillip? Did the Doctor just call Coulson _Phillip_? As far as Fury was aware, the last person who'd done that had nearly gotten their kneecaps shot off. Coulson _hated_ being called Phillip, and had gone so far as to ask SHIELD Security to put 'Phil' on all of his official identification.

Although, he supposed if anyone would be able to get away with it, it was an alien who could take down governments with _six words_.

To be fair, Fury would never cease to be impressed by that, even as much as he'd liked Harriet Jones, God rest her. That woman could kick ass and take names and still act like a genuine lady. Her funeral had been very well attended, mostly by people who were still pissed off that the Doctor had decided to arrange to have her deposed in the first place. Which meant anyone who had any clue about the Master and all his bullshit, because he never would've gotten his foot in the door if Harriet had still been in power.

"What about him?" Did the Doctor know about Coulson being alive? It wouldn't surprise him one bit, to be honest.

"I know what you did to him," the Doctor answered, his gaze going dark. He took two steps toward Fury, and it was all he could do not to back up. Yeah, he could understand why he was called the Oncoming Storm, and Fury was pretty sure this was just the tip of the iceberg. "And you cannot do it ever again."

Fury shrugged. "Couldn't anyway, even if I wanted to. Everything's been destroyed." Coulson himself had taken care of that, back at the Guest House. "I'm completely out of the resurrection business." Besides, there were the nightmares. Nope, not gonna happen. He wasn't about to admit that he was damned glad Coulson blew that shit up.

The Doctor glared at him, and it felt like he was trying to read his mind or something. Maybe he was. There were rumours that he was vaguely telepathic.

He must have seen something, which really pissed Fury off, because he eventually nodded. "Good. Because, while I understand what you did and why you did it, you cannot play with life and death like that." A shadow passed over his face. "I've done it, and it hardly ever ends well."

Fury could believe that. Another of the Doctor's many nicknames was the Lonely God, and Fury had always wondered where _that_ one had come from. Now, he understood, even if he didn't have any of the details. "Don't worry. Coulson is a one-off. Even if I did have the resources, I wouldn't do it." He held his arms out from his body, giving the Doctor a good look at his utter lack of resources. "This is me…homeless and believed dead by pretty much everyone."

It earned him a little half-smile. "I doubt you're as homeless as you let on. But I'll take your word for it, Colonel."

"Thanks for that." He was grateful that the Time Lord was willing to believe him.

He did wonder if he could play on the Doctor's sudden goodwill, so he asked, "You've been to the future…can you tell me what happens to SHIELD? Does Coulson build it back up?"

A playful smirk decorated the Doctor's mobile features. "I don't normally give out spoilers, timelines and all that…but if you must know, I've just come back from helping Phillip out with a particular mess." Another shadow darkened his eyes, but the grin was back almost immediately. Fury wondered what that was all about. "While I can't give away too much I can tell you that your giving him the Directorship of SHIELD was possibly the best thing you could have done. Colonel, he takes SHIELD out to the stars, and in the future – while it has changed somewhat – it's still doing good work. And it's all down to Phillip J Coulson."

Tension that he hadn't even known he'd been carrying around left Fury in a rush, so quickly he had to lean against the monument of his not-so-dead friend in order to keep his balance. He hated showing such weakness in front of anyone, but he figured the Doctor wouldn't try to blackmail him with it or disrespect him or anything.

"And he's doing alright?" Despite everything, Coulson _had_ been his friend. He thought maybe he still was, but from the shouting he'd done the last time they'd gotten together Fury figured there was still quite a few bad feelings about what he'd done to bring Coulson back, and that he should give Coulson a bit of space to get over it.

"Alright?" the Doctor exclaimed. "He's _brilliant_. Although," the smile left his face, "he's going to be suffering from what you did to him for the rest of his life. He hasn't allowed it to slow him down, but he does still have nightmares about it, even years later. And it's always going to rear its ugly head when he least expects it."

Yeah, nightmares seemed to be par for the course over this crap.

"I _had_ to do it," Fury insisted, suddenly feeling the need to justify himself, because he was positive he'd done the right thing. "It was terrible, but this world needed Phil Coulson. _I_ needed Coulson. I don't trust a lot of people, that I could afford to lose one just because he felt the need to face down a mad god with a spear, using only an experimental gun that no one knew would even work." It had, and he'd been more than happy to gift Coulson with it. Coulson had been his usually nerdy self and named the damned thing _Bambino,_ for fuck's sake.

"No, you're right…this world _does_ need him. This _universe_ needs him. But I mean what I say…it can never happen again. I respect Phillip far too much to let this lie. I needed to make absolutely sure that you don't have the resources somewhere to do this ever again."

There were so many secrets in the Doctor's words that Fury fairly itched to find them out, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good to ask. If anything, there would be the timelines to consider, and if Coulson had done everything that the Doctor had hinted at then there was no fucking way Fury was gonna wreck them.

"You have my word, Doctor…the TAHITI Project has been destroyed. Coulson saw to it himself, and I don't have any way of reproducing anything. Any and all files are now in Coulson's possession." He nodded toward the newly turned grave. "The last of it was in that empty coffin, and Agent May got it herself and put it in Coulson's hand."

She'd also managed to collect quite a few of the small keepsakes that Coulson's family and friends had left, which Fury was strangely glad for. Fury had left each and every one of them in the coffin, when he'd pulled Coulson out of it, and for some reason he'd kinda been regretting that. Some of that stuff had been _nice_ , and Coulson would appreciate it.

"Phillip will make sure it's all gone then." There was something slightly off about that comment, but Fury let it lie. He wouldn't have been able to force it out of the Time Lord anyway.

"Okay, wait," Fury could ask this one thing. "Why the hell are you calling him Phillip? He hates that name almost as much as when I call him Cheese."

The Time Lord put a long index finger against the side of his nose, giving a smirk that was as much full of mystery as it was playfulness. "Spoilers." And then he laughed. "Cheese? Really? Oh, I am so asking him about that particular nickname."

Fury couldn't help but bark at laugh at that. "Alright, fine. Don't tell me." But he was _so_ going to call Coulson 'Phillip' when he saw him next.

And there was no doubt that Fury would be seeing Coulson again. It was just a matter of time.

He'd give the man time to bring SHIELD back, first. Then all bets were off.

Fury stepped forward, holding out his hand. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor."

For a split second, the Time Lord eyed the offered hand as if he expected it to bite him. Then he accepted it, pumping it roughly up and down three times, and then let it go. "You as well, Colonel. I'm sure we'll meet again someday. Oh, and I'd appreciate you not telling Phillip you met me. We haven't actually met yet…well, he hasn't met me, even though I've met him…it's timey wimey…" He shrugged rather helplessly.

"Alright, I won't," Fury promised. It was one he'd keep, because there was no way he was gonna endanger the future.

Not that he could see how letting Coulson know he'd met the Doctor before the Doctor had met him cause any damage, but then he wasn't a Time Lord so what did he know? Hell, he didn't even quite understand that thought he'd just had.

The Doctor turned and strode away, but Fury couldn't help but call out to him once more. "Doctor!"

He spun around, even as he was walking, so that he was still moving, only backward. Fury had this sudden urge to see him trip and fall.

It didn't happen, though.

Too bad.

"Thanks for looking out for him," he said. It wasn't empty words; he was glad that someone else had their eye on Coulson, even if it was an alien who most people in charge saw as a menace but Fury believed was an asset to this planet. If they'd had him during the Chitauri invasion things might have gone very differently.

The Doctor used two fingers to sketch him a sloppy salute then turned around, heading out of the cemetery.

It was then that he tripped over something, and almost face planted into several arrangements of flowers around one of the graves.

Fury shook his head, feeling almost…fond.

Fuck, he needed a drink.

He also left the cemetery, just in time to see a large blue box parked on the corner begin to fade away, a really horrid-ass noise accompanying it.

For the first time since SHIELD fell, Fury actually felt as if everything was the way it was supposed to be.

 _Fin_


End file.
